


More Than Dinner

by the_secret_wordsmith



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bisexuality, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, brief mention of nobby's love life, feel like that ought to be a warning, sybil ramkin sorting things out behind the scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_secret_wordsmith/pseuds/the_secret_wordsmith
Summary: Vimes reports to Vetinari as usual. But, thanks to Sybil's meddling, things end in a less than usual way.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes, Sybil Ramkin/Havelock Vetinari, Sybil Ramkin/Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes, Sybil Ramkin/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	More Than Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get these three out of my head so I wrote this.

“Ah, Vimes.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Indeed,” Vetinari said, without turning round. He stood by the window, tall figure silhouetted by the glowing light of the city. Vimes waited.

After another moment of stillness, the Patrician finally moved, gliding away from the wall and sitting down at his desk. Vimes kept his gaze on the patch of wall behind his lordship as Vetinari examined him over his steepled fingers.

“It has recently come to my attention,” Vetinari began but stopped at Vimes's cough. His lordship's eyes narrowed, “What is it, commander?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Vimes had a very good idea what _It_ was that Vetinari had summoned him here to talk about. And it had definitely not only recently come to his lordship's attention. The events had occurred two days ago between Corporal Nobbs, a certain seamstress and her, er, customer. No, Vetinari had waited to speak to him about this because he wanted to let Vimes squirm.

Well.

It might've worked a little.

Vetinari rapped his fingers on the desk before reforming the steeple at his chin. His fingers were long and pale and Vimes hurriedly looked back to that spot over his lordship's shoulder. Gods, he hoped the bastard hadn't noticed that. He was usually so good at controlling _those_ thoughts around Vetinari.

“Mrs Palm wished me to remind you that members of her guild and their well-being are strictly within her jurisdiction, not that of the Watch.”

“As you say, sir.”

“Your grace,” Vetinari said and Vimes glowered. The bastard always used the bloody honorific to punish him.

“Sir.”

“I do not know what is going on between Corporal Nobbs and the young lady, but - ”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Your grace?”

Vimes cleared his throat, feeling strangely smug that he knew something that Vetinari didn't. “There's nothing going on between the young _lady_ and Nobby, sir.”

Vimes was certain Vetinari wouldn't need him to spell it out.

“Really,” Vetinari said. Vimes swore there was a flicker of a smile at the corner of Vetinari's mouth and he tried to ignore the mimicking flicker of his heart at the sight of the Patrician's amusement.

“Well,” Vetinari said after a moment's thought, “That is a relief. It shall set Mrs Palm's heart at ease to know that none of hers are getting involved with a...” Vetinari hesitated for barely a moment, “A man such as Corporal Nobbs.”

“As you say, sir.” Vimes waited for Vetinari to dismiss him now that the issue seemed to be cleared up but Vetinari remained silent. “Is that all then, sir?”

“Hm?”

Vimes frowned. This did not sound like the usual Vetinari at all. The Patrician was sat in the same position and he looked just about normal (or as normal as Vetinari ever could be considering) but there was a distant look in his eyes that was unnerving. He never looked like that.

“Sir?”

Vetinari seemed to come out of it, blinking once (once too many for him Vimes thought) and staring straight at Vimes.

“I was speaking to Lady Ramkin the other day.”

Vimes said nothing. What was Vetinari up to with Sybil? Vetinari cleared his throat and raised his eyebrow as though he knew exactly what Vimes was thinking.

“She invited me round for a late dinner tomorrow.”

Vimes said nothing. What was Sybil up to with Vetinari?

“She seems to think that the three of us should spend more time together,” Vetinari said.

Vimes said nothing.

“You know that she and I were close in our younger days?” Vetinari said.

“Sir.”

“Corporal Nobbs and the seamstress's customer...” Vetinari trailed off. There was a moment of silence during which Vimes focused his attention firmly on a point a good foot or so above the Patrician's head. There was a strange ringing in his ear. What was happening here? What was Sybil up to?

“Well,” Vetinari said eventually, “Modern times are certainly upon us. And it certainly doesn't matter whom Corporal Nobbs choses to, er, pursue.”

“No, sir,” Vimes said and cleared his throat. His voice was croaky, mouth dry, and suddenly Vetinari was on his feet and striding round his desk to stand before him.

“I don't have to come for dinner, Vimes,” he said and Vimes couldn't bring himself to look at the man before him. If he did then who knew what might happen.

“No, sir.”

He sensed more than saw the way Vetinari seemed to shrink at his words, “Of course, well...” The Patrician turned and made as if to return to his seat. Vimes frowned.

“Wait,” he said and caught Vetinari's arm. Both men froze then Vetinari looked down to where Vimes's sun-beaten hand was clinging to the soft fabric of Vetinari's sleeve. “I meant no, sir. As in, I don't not want you to come.”

Vetinari's face was unreadable. Vimes frowned. Had he clarified that right?

“I mean, sir,” he said, “That I'd love you to come... for dinner.” Sybil wanted this if she was orchestrating it. And Vimes wanted it. And... and for some reason, for some wild and beautiful reason, Vetinari did too.

“I understood, commander,” Vetinari said. A brief frown crossed his pale forehead and Vimes wanted to reach to the crease, to brush it away. Then Vetinari spoke, “You do realise that your wife, that is to say... Sybil meant us to have more than dinner, to do more than eat...”

“For you to be more than a guest?” Vimes suggested, his heart beating fast and Vetinari definitely did not smile. Instead he reached over with his free hand and placed it atop Vimes's one on his arm.

“Do you want that then?”

“Yes, sir.” Vimes said and, seized by a powerful impulse, a slightly mad courage, he moved closer to the Patrician and, with his free hand, reached up to cup the other man's cheek. His skin was cool and Vimes repressed a shiver not caused by the temperature.

Vetinari's eyes were firmly fixed on Vimes's lips. Then he swallowed and leant down.

“Perhaps you should call me Havelock in certain...” Vetinari's lips brushed over Sam's own, “...situations.”

“Yes... Havelock,” Sam said and he smiled, “And you'd better call me Sam then.”

“I supposed I'd better had,” Havelock said, his eyes half closed as he stared at Sam. They were standing so close. Sam let his hand slip from Havelock's cheek down to his throat then up and round the back of his neck into the man's hair.

“So soft,” Sam whispered and Havelock smiled, pink tingeing his cheeks. Now that was a new sight: new and irresistible. Sam pulled Havelock in gently until their slightly warm breath was mingling in the ever-shrinking gap between them.

Lips met once more and Sam's eyes flickered shut as Havelock's arms wrapped themselves around him, pulling the two of them in closer, noses brushing as Sam pushed his tongue curiously against the other man's lips. Havelock moaned softly.

Sam tightened his grip on him and sent a silent thought of thanks to his wife: his brilliant, beautiful wife. Sybil always had the best ideas, didn't she?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. I might write more for it - like what happens at dinner? But for now I think it works as a one-shot.


End file.
